


You're a mess baby.

by Thegreatsnotdragon



Series: Round Fish, Panda Sweaters and Whoopi Goldberg [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Boyfriends, But they're really in love, Cas is still really bad at feelings, Dean is a really good boyfriend, Established Relationship, Fighting, Football Player Dean, Hipster Castiel, M/M, No couple is perfect ok, and adorable, and some humor, relationship drama, so much crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 23:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegreatsnotdragon/pseuds/Thegreatsnotdragon
Summary: At a party one night, they bump into someone Cas used to know, and Dean ends up learning something pretty big about his boyfriend's past.Can be read as a standalone.





	You're a mess baby.

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING - I put the triggers in the end notes, because they do reveal where the story is going, but if you're someone who does have triggers, please go look.  
> This can be read as a standalone, but if you've read any of the previous entries you should know that this is meant to take place about five or six months after I want us to share a coffin. So they know each other a lot better, and have a little bit of a different dynamic going.  
> ENJOY!

“Jesus fuck I’m tired,” Dean groans. “We really gotta go to this thing?”

“You don’t gotta do shit Winchester, but you said you’d be there.” Victor replies.

“Ugh.” Dean drops his head into his hands. “Why the fuck did I say that?”

“Cause you’re a dumbass,” Benny chimes in with. “Now get up, Andrea already left and I can’t keep my lady waiting.”

“Fuck you,” Dean mumbles, because he’s really mature.

Cas already left too, which means that Dean should get off this bench and go to the party where his boyfriend is waiting for him. He should really get off this bench. It’s not like it’s comfortable, it’s a wooden bench in a smelly locker room. But he’s so tired…

“Wow Winchester, your comeback game is _amazing._ ” Victor says drily.

Dean is so sore from the game, he genuinely feels like he can’t move. He sat down after showering to wait for Benny and Victor to finish getting dressed, and his body just shut down. His body wants sleep. And then maybe some pizza. And then more sleep.

He hears something being shifted around to his left, and Benny letting out a little giggle. Then he hears Victor’s voice, calm and clear;

“So here are your options, either get your ass of this bench and drive us to the party, or Benny and I are driving ourselves.” Something jingles in front of Dean’s face. “But either way we’re taking your car.”

Dean’s mind is slow with exhaustion, so it takes a second for Victor’s words to register. But when they do he lifts his head to see Victor standing in front of him, dangling a set of keys in his hand. _Dean’s_ keys.

He glares at their smug and amused faces for a moment, but when Victor doesn’t show any sign of backing down, he relents.

“Fine.” He grumbles, groaning as he heaves himself up from sitting position. “I fucking hate you both.”

 

“Whose house is this?” Dean asks as they’re pulling up in front of a big ass white mansion.

“No idea.” Benny replies.

When they get inside the house they’re immediately greeted with a chorus of whoops and congratulations.  And holy fuck this place is huge. The energy starts to get to Dean and he’s feeling a little more alive. They did just win a really big game, celebrating is sort of an obligation.

He scans the room for any sign of that trademark sex hair. He can’t spot Cas anywhere, but does see a familiar flash of red moving in the sea of people. He walks toward it.

“Hey!” Charlie practically shrieks when she sees him. “Congratulations!”

She hugs him fiercely and then bumps her fist into his shoulder. Really hard.

“Ow!” Dean says, shying away from her with a reproachful glare. “Why the fuck are you hitting me?”

“Because!” She exclaims cheerfully, “You kicked ass today! And in the spirit of friendship I’m celebrating by immersing myself in the culture and customs of your people!”

“My people..?”

“Yes, mindless jocks. Y’know dumb athletes, Letterman jacket wearing Cro-Magnons. Your people.”

“Dude that’s really offensive.” Dean says. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really, I’m just naturally this charming.”

Dean rolls his eyes at her, but she just beams at him. So annoying. “Whatever, where’s Cas?”

“Upstairs, last I checked.”

“Great,” He pats her on the head. “See you later weirdo.”

“Later slut!” She calls after him.

Dean heads up the stairs, which is just slightly less crowded than the downstairs. He’s standing in what looks like a living room, a _huge_ living room. And there, across the room is Cas. He’s talking to some blonde girl and Dean lets out a soft, fond laugh at the sight of him because he’s wearing some kind of hairy blue monstrosity masquerading as a sweater. Dean walks up to him, and lets his arms snake around his waist from behind. He feels Cas tense in surprise, and leans closer to say; “So I’m gonna say you either went thrift shopping again, or you’ve skinned Cookie Monster.”.

“Dean!” Cas says, twisting around in Dean’s arms. “Congratulations!”

Dean opens his mouth to say thanks, but is interrupted when Cas soft lips press against his own.  

“You were- so good- was- watching- _so_ worried.” Cas says, getting only a few words out at a time between kisses.

Dean tightens his arms around him while their lips move against each other. Something about Cas’s kiss is almost too fervent, like he’s on edge. Dean breaks the kiss to look at him. “Hold on, were you really worried today?”

Cas looks right back at him, his blue eyes wide, and cheeks slightly flushed. “Of course I was. Believe it or not, I don’t love seeing you get tackled.”

“Aw baby,” Dean says, pressing a soft kiss to Cas’s lips, “That’s just downright sweet.”

“Shut up.” Cas grumbles adorably.

“So about the sweater…”

“I love it.” Cas says defensively.

“Course you do.” Dean says, letting out a small laugh. “Me too.”

 

They’re back downstairs, going over the best moments of the game, and Dean knows Cas is doing his best to pretend not to be bored to death. That’s when they hear a lot of loud, excited voices coming from the hallway. And booing, lots of booing.

Dean turns to Vic and Benny with raised eyebrows.

“Well what d’you know, they actually showed.” Benny drawls.

They have a longstanding rivalry with the Smilodons; the team they beat today, and the deal was that the losing team had to make an appearance at the other team’s victory party. Dean was pretty sure they’d back out, but apparently they have bigger balls than he gave them credit for.

“In here!” He shouts over the sea of people. “Just follow the smell of victory!”

He sees Michael North first, walking towards them with a somber expression. It’s pretty obvious the only a few players were willing to follow through on the deal because they’re about six short. Dean can’t name all of them, but he’s pretty sure one of them is Raphael.

He sees the rest of his own team milling through the house toward the source of the ruckus. And the look of glee on their faces when they realise they’re gonna have a chance to rub their win in their opponents faces.

Michael walks toward them, the rest of the players trailing after him, displaying a range of different emotions from despondent to pissed. Michael approaches Benny first, hand extended.

“I hope you know we’re gonna fucking murder your asses next time.” Is the first line out of his mouth.

“Oh the ravings of a delusional man,” Dean says. “So tragic.”

Michael turns to him, and there’s just the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “We’ll see” He says.

“Yeah, we will see. See you get you asses whoopped just like you did today.”

Michael leans his head back and rolls his eyes, he opens his mouth to say something, but then his eyes fall on Cas who’s standing on Dean’s right.

“Hey, I know you from somewhere…” Michael says, looking at Cas with a quizzical expression.

Dean looks at Cas, and sees a flash of something in his eyes. Something vulnerable, maybe fear or discomfort, but then his face goes blank and _oh no_. Something’s wrong.

“You don’t look familiar.” Cas says, looking straight at Michael.

“No? God, I swear I know you from somewhere…” His eyes widen in recognition. “Wait… You’re Castiel right?”

Cas nods, his face unreadable.  

“Knew you looked familiar.” Michael mumbles.

That exact moment Cas chooses to excuse himself to get a refill, and Dean eyes follow him unconsciously. Yep, something is definitely wrong. He probably seems fine to everyone else, but Dean’s gotten pretty good at reading him at this point, and he knows something’s off. He’s hears voices still around him, still trading insults, but he’s distracted by whatever’s going on with his boyfriend, and how the hell he’s supposed to handle it.

Sighing with the feeling that he’s probably going to regret this, he follows Cas into the kitchen where he’s standing with his back to the door, pouring punch into his cup. Carefully, Dean places one hand on the small of his back.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks in a low voice.

Cas shoots him a very brief glance, before looking down at the punch bowl again. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Cas c’mon, I can tell something’s wrong. This about Michael? Do you wanna leave?”

He very purposefully does not ask for any details about how exactly Cas knows Michael North, because history has shown that Cas does not do well with being pushed to share.

“ _Nothing_ is wrong. I’m fine.” Cas says, in a tone that’s controlled but threatening to crack.

He’s staring Dean straight in the eye, and they’ve done this dance enough times for Dean to recognize that look. That look means this is the moment where either Dean backs down, or they’re about to get into a fight.

“Okay,” Dean says, trying hard as hell to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Have fun then.”

 

Dean is talking to some snarky british girl when Jo comes running up to him. He’s still stone cold sober. He was getting in the mood to party for a hot second, but then this night veered off in a weird direction, and now he’s worried and frustrated instead.

“Dean, there’s a pool!” Jo says, clearly buzzed. “Have you seen it, it’s huge!”

“Yeah, I saw it. Hey you seen Cas anywhere?”

“Um yeah, he was talking to that guy a while ago, you know from the other team, wait what are they called? ”

“Michael? Michael North?

“Eh, I don’t know his name. The one with the dark hair and the cheekbones.”

“They were talking?”

“Yeah, seemed kind of intense, and then I think they left. Cas seemed sort of upset.”

“ _They left?!_ “ Dean shouts, drawing every eye in the room to him. “ _Cas left with him?!_ ”

“Oh!” Jo’s eyes widen at his distress. “God, no! I meant the other team left! Sorry, I’m a little drunk.”

Dean feels his panic subside as he processes her words. “Jesus fuck woman! You almost gave me a heart attack!”  

Jo winces visibly. “Sorry.”

So Cas was talking to Michael North and he looked upset. Of course what Dean wants to do is what anyone would want if their boyfriend or girlfriend was upset. To go to them and comfort them. But what he’s learned about Cas is that he needs to wait. Wait for Cas to come to him. It’s fucking frustrating because Dean has never been good at waiting. But now he waits. Because it’s what Cas needs.

 

Dean is standing out by the pool, (having just pushed Charlie into it) when he thinks that he’s just about ready to call it a night. Of course leaving would mean having to find Cas, which he’s been putting off, because as much as Dean loves his boyfriend, he sometimes also wants to strangle him.

Charlie emerges soaked from the pool, which is glowing in the darkness. “You asshole!” She says, not really seeming all that upset about it.

Dean just smiles widely at her.

“You said you were immersing yourself in jock culture, I’m just helping you out. Congrats, you’re one of the guys now.”

“Really?!” Charlie says and her smile is so genuine it’s adorable. “Awesome!”

“You know you’re ridiculous right?”

“You love me.” She beams. Then her eyes fall on something behind Dean. “Hey is that..?”

Dean turns around to see a very familiar figure stumble out through the glass double doors, onto the back porch. He lets out a heavy sigh before turning back to Charlie.

“So he’s… really drunk.” She comments awkwardly.

Yes. Yes he is.

Charlie looks at him expectantly, and when he doesn’t say anything she raises her eyebrows questioningly.

“Shouldn’t you maybe, y’know go deal with that?” She gestures to Cas behind him.

Dean turns again, to see Cas now very determinedly making his way through the throng of bodies toward some bushes by the edge of the pool. Yes, Dean should really go deal with that. Doesn’t mean he’s gotta act excited about it. He gives Charlie a pained look and receives an answering eye roll. Then he’s going after his drunk ass boyfriend.

“Where you going Cas?” He asks as he catches up to him.

“I have to-” Cas says in a strangled voice, gesturing to something in front of him.

He then clamps his hand over his mouth, and runs unsteadily towards the bushes where he proceeds to puke his guts out into a very neatly trimmed rosebush.

Dean stands back, wincing at the sound of Cas retching. Eventually his boyfriend emerges, looking pretty unsteady and holding his hands out like he’s looking for something to lean on. Dean rushes forward to catch him, wrapping his hands around Cas’s middle.

Cas looks up at him in surprise, as if he forgot Dean was standing right there. His blue eyes are slightly unfocused, and his cheeks are red. Looks like he managed not to get any on his clothes though. The hairy blue sweater survived. Cookie Monster lives.

“You’re a mess baby.” Dean says, running his hands up Cas’s back. “Let’s go.”

Cas drops his head down onto Dean’s shoulder, mumbling something Dean can’t make out.

“Come on,” Dean says. “Let’s get you home.”

Cas mumbles something else.

“I can’t hear you baby.”

Cas lifts his head slightly and looks at Dean. “I asked if you’re okay to drive.” He says in a weak voice.

“I’m good, haven’t had a drink all night.” He places a kiss on Cas’s clammy forehead.

“Okay.” Cas mumbles, pulling back from their embrace.

Dean leads Cas to the Impala, all the while holding his hand and making sure his drunk ass doesn’t trip over anything. Opens and closes the door for him, before walking over to the driver’s seat.

They pass the five minute drive in silence. Dean doesn’t have to look at Cas to know what his expression is. Because the silence is palpable, deliberate. And he knows Cas is doing that thing again. That thing he does sometimes, when he doesn’t know how to handle what he’s feeling. He just sort of goes all cold and quiet, burying his emotions in some deep dark place inside. Dean calls it his robot mode. Not to his face though.

It’s honestly kind of freaky. And Dean’s not a shrink, but he doesn’t have to be to know it’s pretty friggin unhealthy too.

“So I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it.” Dean says as he’s pulling up.

This isn’t where he usually parks, because it’s much closer to Cas’s dorm than his own.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Talk about what?” Cas says, voice tired and devoid of inflection.

His composure is impressive for a drunk person, Dean’s gotta give him that. His reply however, is beyond frustrating. But Dean is not going to yell, because Cas is already upset, and that wouldn’t be helping anything.

“You know what Cas. Whatever you’re upset about, how you know Michael North, I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about _that_.”

There’s another moment of silence.

“I’m fine.”

Dean’s not going to yell. He’s _not_ going to yell.

Swallowing his frustration with considerable effort. He drops his head into his hands and in a voice bleeding with tension says; “Cas, for fucks’s sake, give me some credit. I know you, I can tell when you’re fine, you’re not fine! So stop saying it! _Stop_ lying to me.”

Silence.

“I wasn’t-” Cas begins.

“Lying straight to my face?!” Dean says, cutting him off. “That’s exactly what you were doing.”

Cas opens his mouth and Dean can tell by the stormy look on his face that he’s gonna say something angry in retort. But then he catches himself and closes his mouth, and after another beat of silence he says in clipped tones: “Sorry.”  

Dean knows he’s apologizing specifically about the lying, because he knows that’s still a sore spot. “Great,“ he says, unable to keep anger and frustration from seeping into his voice. “Now get out of the car.”

He opens the door on his side and gets out, shutting it behind him before going over to Cas’s side, where Cas is struggling to get the door open. When they were talking Cas was so in control of himself it almost made Dean forget how drunk he is. But yeah, he’s _drunk_. Dean sighs and opens the door. Cas gets out awkwardly, and Dean reaches his hand forward to steady him.

“Let’s go.” He says after locking the Impala.

“You don’t have to walk me to my door Dean _._ ” Cas says, in an annoyed voice.

“You can barely walk straight Cas, so I’m thinking I do.” Dean says, answering in an equally annoyed voice.

Cas doesn’t answer, just makes some sort of irritated noise, which Dean would find adorable if he wasn’t so annoyed with him. They walk to Cas’s dorm, the air around them filled with tense silence.

Cas fumbles with the key before getting the door open, and he glares at Dean when he opens his mouth to offer to help. What a charming drunk he is. When the door opens Dean sees Kevin already asleep on his bed.

Cas grabs his toothbrush and toothpaste from the drawer in his nightstand, and then goes toward the door. Dean moves to follow him, but Cas fixes him with another glare.   

“I don’t need help getting to the bathroom Dean. I’m not that drunk.”

Dean was just about to stand back and let Cas go, when the other boy sort of sways on his feet, reaffirming the fact that yes, he _is_ that drunk. Dean rolls his eyes, and reaches out to steady him. “Come on.” He says, tugging Cas towards the door.

He can tell Cas is about to argue more, and at this point he’s just about had it up to here. “You wanna fight or you wanna use the bathroom Cas?” He whispers angrily, trying not to wake Kevin. “Besides, I gotta go too, you’re not the only one with a bladder.”

So they both go. And when they get back to Cas’s room Dean hovers in the doorway awkwardly. “You want to be alone or you want me to stay?” He asks, voice tired.

Cas looks at him, and all the anger and irritation is wiped from his face. Dean gets the sense that Cas doesn’t want them to leave it like this either. Doesn’t want to wake up tomorrow and still be in a fight.

Cas’s eyes are wide, and Dean knows he’s wordlessly communicating, asking a question; asking permission. Dean isn’t sure what the question is, but he’s pretty sure he says yes, because the next thing he knows Cas’s arms are wrapped around him. It feels a little bit like relief, and Dean’s arms wind their way around Cas’s back.

“Stay.” Cas whispers, and it sounds almost pleading, placating.

“Okay.” Dean says, smiling slightly because he got the answer he wanted.

Maybe he should be wanting to get away from Cas right about now, but he doesn’t. He closes and locks the door.

They both shrug out of their jeans, and Cas takes off the hairy blue sweater, and puts on a t-shirt and pajama pants which have an adorable cactus pattern on them. Dean just wears his t-shirt and boxers to bed.

It’s pretty cramped with both of them in the tiny bed, so there’s no way to lie in it without being curled around each other. But Dean doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind Cas’s soft hair tickling him the back of his neck, and he doesn’t mind Cas’s arm loosely draped across his upper body.

About ten minutes after switching the lights back off, Dean is lying in the dark, unable to quiet the buzz of thoughts in his head, when Cas says; “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“We could watch something?”

“Sure.”

They turn the night light on, and Dean reaches down to grab Cas’s laptop from the nightstand.

He also says nothing in protest when Cas wants to watch _The Crown_ , even though… Snooze. And the reason he says nothing is because he’s still _waiting._

They make it through two episode, keeping the volume really low for Kevin’s sake. And they’re in the middle of their third when Cas reaches forward and pauses it. Dean is pretty sleepy at this point, so he’s not paying attention, but then he hears Cas’s voice, clear and shaky;

“He went to my High School.”

 _Who?_ Is the first thought in Dean’s sleepy brain, but then he processes Cas’s words and… _Oh._

He sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Michael North?”

Cas nods jerkily, only glancing at Dean briefly. He’s sitting up too, stubbornly staring down at his hands, looking really beautifully vulnerable. He opens his mouth, only to close it again. Dean sees his eyes becoming shiny with unspilled tears, and a sense of heaviness comes over him as he feels the weight of whatever Cas is about to tell him. He reaches his hand forward and takes Cas’s.

“Hey,” He says softly. “You can tell me anything, you gotta know that.”

Cas looks up at him, blue eyes scanning Dean’s face, and Dean can sense that he’s searching for reassurance beyond words. Looking for the truth of it in Dean’s features, in his eyes. Dean just meets his gaze, and tries to convey a sense of safety, to tell Cas that there’s nothing to be afraid of. After about a minute of silent communication Cas nods shakily, and takes a steadying breath.

“He used to… He and his friends they would… M-make fun of me… A lot.” Tears spill heavy down  over his cheeks. “Call me names, make fun of the way I speak and dressed and things like that. And sometimes they would… Throw things at me when I walked by, and yell so everyone stared. Or shove me. Or-” He breaks down into sobs, burying his head in his hands, mumbling the last three words.

And Dean is frozen. He’s pretty sure he heard what Cas just mumbled, and he feels sick. He doesn’t know what to do or say, because he’s pretty sure the words that just came out of his boyfriend’s mouth were _spit on me._

What the fuck is Dean supposed to say to that?

Cas lets out another sob, and the sounds snaps Dean out of his trance. Right, Cas needs him.

“Hey, c’mere.” He says, pulling a shaking Cas into his arms.

He lies back down, tugging Cas along with him, the other boy’s face buried in the crook of his neck; shaking with sobs. He runs his hands up Cas’s back, and presses kisses into his hair. And words spill over his lips in soft whispers. _I’m sorry,_ _I love you, it’s okay._

Cas stills after a few minutes, but they stay in that exact position. Dean can tell Cas is afraid to meet his eyes, effectively hiding his face against Dean’s body.

“They bullied you.” Dean says, after long minutes of silence.

Cas finally pulls his head back, but he still can’t quite look at Dean. And his blue eyes are so wide and scared it breaks Dean’s heart. But he nods slowly.

Dean takes a deep breath. “Was it because-”

“It had nothing to do with my sexuality.” Cas says, anticipating Dean’s train of thought. “No one knew at that point. They just... They…”

His voice breaks and Dean notices his hands are visibly shaking. He presses his lips to Cas’s forehead. “It’s okay baby, take your time.”

“They thought I was weird.” He whispers, and the tone of his voice turns it into something shameful.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas tighter, wishing for some way to help, to erase that shame. “They were fucking assholes baby. You’re perfect.”

Cas lets out a little sniffle. “Everyone has flaws Dean.”

Dean smiles faintly and rolls his eyes, putting his hand under Cas chin and tilting his head up. Cas meets his gaze hesitantly, eyes still riddled with uncertainty.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Dean says. “You’ve got flaws, but you’re still fucking perfect, cause you’re you.”

Cas blushes, and hugs Dean closer.

“They were right though.” Cas whispers. “I’m weird.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, because yes, of course Cas is weird. He’s a perfect adorable little weirdo. Dean never sensed that he was anything less than comfortable with that fact. With who he is.

“Does that bother you?” Dean asks softly, still not knowing the right thing to say.

“It never used to… Before they... When I was little, my parents always made me feel that I... I could be whoever I wanted. But then… When those boys would mock me, I started to feel like maybe… Maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe I do speak funny, or dress funny and maybe I should try to be normal.” His voice breaks, and he whispers: ”I wanted to be normal.”

Cas is crying again, and even though hearing him talk like this breaks Dean’s heart, his eyes are completely dry. It’s like Cas being so vulnerable kicks him into protector mode, and instinct compels him to be the strong one.

“You still feel that way?” He asks, his hands gently wiping Cas’s wet cheeks.

“Sometimes.” Cas whispers. “Sometimes I’m afraid that people will see me the way they did. Even… Even you.”

Dea takes a moment to process that, and then rolls on top of Cas, looking him straight in the eye.

“That could never happen Cas. All the things those assholes used to make fun of you for, they’re… “ He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “They’re _you_. They’re the same things I fell in love with.”

A fresh stream of tears make their way down Cas’s cheeks at his words, and Dean leans forward to kiss his chapped lips lightly. Cas’s arms wrap around him, hugging him tightly. It’s a perfect feeling, Cas’s body responding to him. Feeling that Cas needs him, even if he’s afraid to admit it.

He pulls back, and leans his forehead against Cas’s. “You drive me crazy sometimes you know.” he says. “But there isn't a single thing I would change about you.”

He kisses Cas again, slow and sweet, before rolling to the side, trying not crush his boyfriend with his weight. They lie in silence for a moment, hands intertwined.

“I’m really happy I told you.” Cas says then, in a shy whisper.

Dean smiles, and rests his palm on Cas’s cheek. “Yeah, me too.”

And he is. So happy to have this piece of Cas. One more piece of what makes him who he is.

“I love you.” Cas says, inching closer to Dean.

“I love you too baby.” He hesitates for a moment, not wanting to push. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask me what?”

Dean runs his hands in circles on Cas’s back. “Jo said she saw you talking to Michael tonight, and I was just wondering what he said?”

“Oh.” Cas’s voice goes all shaky again, and Dean almost regret bringing it up. “I… Yes I did speak to him.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it right now.”

“No, I want to. I want you to know.”

“Okay.” Dean says, feeling a warmth spreading through his chest at Cas’s words.

He presses a kiss right by the other boy’s hairline.

“He came up to me, and asked me how I was doing, and talked about how different I look now. He was acting like… Like we’d been friends, or at least like he hadn’t… So I asked him what made him believe he had any right to speak to me, considering how he treated me in High School. And he said-” His voice breaks and fresh tears pour down his cheeks. “He said they’d just been _messing around_ back then, and that it wasn’t his fault I didn’t know how to take a joke.”

All Dean can do is hold him while he cries. And press soft kisses to his face. He’s going to do this, be the strong one for Cas. Even though he’s furious and sick to his stomach.

“He, and his friends, they made me hate myself.” Cas says, voice thick with tears. “Made me afraid to go to school. Made it so no one else wanted to be friends with me. And he has the fucking nerve to tell me they were just _messing around_. I wanted to punch him. But I didn’t, and then I wondered why I didn’t, and I didn’t know the answer, or I just didn’t want to think about it.”

“So you got shitfaced.”

“Yes.”

Cas lets out a few more weak sobs, ultimately stilling, curling up against Dean.

“I thought you might threaten to beat him for me or something like that.” Cas says breathing softly against Dean’s neck.

Dean lets out a dark laugh. “I will if it would make you feel better.”

“It might.”

“Okay, then I’m gonna beat his ass so bad he’s gonna end up in a hospital on Guerrero street.”

Cas laughs hoarsely and the sound is so unbelievably sweet.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“There’s no wrong time to reference The Room Cas.”

“I also can’t believe you made me watch that movie.”

“It was amazing, admit it.”

He feels a soft press of lips under his chin. And then hears the words: “I love you.”

“I love you too Cas.”

Silence falls then, and as Dean rubs Cas’s back his mind goes back to the party, and the frustrated sense of helplessness that permeated his entire night up until this point. He knows Cas doesn’t mean to make him feel like that, but sometimes it’s a real headache to be in love with someone who won’t let you take care of them. Cas must notice some tension in his frame, because he looks up with red rimmed eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Dean sighs. “I just… I wish… Sometimes I just wish I knew how to help you you know.”

Cas eyes widen, and for a moment he’s completely silent.

“You… You do help me. All the time. Just the way you look at me, it helps.”

“The way I look at you?” Dean asks.

“Yes.” Cas smiles the tiniest of smiles. “And you’re always there. I always know you’ll come if I need you. That helps me. That’s all I need.”

Dean smiles. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” he holds his pinky forward.

Cas rolls his eyes, but touches Dean’s pinky with his own anyway, making Dean smile.

“Maybe we should go to sleep.” Cas whispers.

Cas’s words make Dean realise how tired he is. God, this has been a long fucking night.

“I’m going to go pee.” Cas says, “And you’re staying here this time.”

“Fine.” Dean says, yawning. “But don’t get murdered.”

“I’ll try.” Cas says, clambering off the bed and going out the door.

When Cas comes back, Dean wraps his arms around him again, and falls asleep holding him.

 

Dean wakes up first the next morning. He’s wrapped around Cas and he can’t help but wrinkle his nose at the smell of booze that seems to be seeping out of his boyfriend’s pores.

He looks at Cas. The way his face is slack, the way his chest rises and falls as he breathes steadily. He runs his fingers through Cas’s hair which is a complete disaster and smiles at the way his t-shirt has ridden up past his belly button. Dean realises he’s officially watching Cas sleep. Which might be considered creepy, but he doubts Cas would mind.

He looks sort of innocent like this. Of course, he often does when he’s awake too, because of the big blue eyes and the head tilt, and the ridiculous sweaters. There’s always been something so unguarded about him. Like he doesn’t have the ability to be self conscious, or to be less himself. But apparently that’s not strictly speaking true.

The fact that someone could beat down on Cas, could shove him and _spit_ on him, that’s so wrong it’s feels like it should tear a hole in the space time continuum. That someone could look at the most important, most fucking precious thing in Dean’s life, and do _that_ , it makes him seethe and breaks his heart at the same time. Dean presses a kiss on Cas’s forehead, and a single stray tear trails across his cheek. God last night was insane and horrible. But now he has this piece. This piece of Cas.

Cas wakes up with a groan. His blue eyes blinking open, looking like a baby bird hatching; not ready for the world.

“I hate everything.” He moans weakly, his voice thick with sleep.

Dean chuckles lightly. “How’s the hangover treating you there?”

Cas rolls over on his stomach and buries his head in his pillow. “I hate you.” He mumbles.

“Course you do,” Dean says, leaning over to kiss Cas’s shoulder. “The fact that you basically tried to drink an entire liquor store last night is clearly my fault.”

“You’re evil, I hate you.” Cas mumbles.

Dean slumps his head down on Cas’s back, laughing silently into the thin fabric of his boyfriend’s t-shirt. “Want me to get you a coffee you asshole?” 

“Yeees. Please. I’ll love you forever.” Cas mumbles, the sound muffled by the pillow.

“Wow, you really play it hot and cold. Don’t be such a coffee whore Cas.”

All he receives in reply is a mumble that sounds vaguely like _hmfmmfk_.

He heaves himself up and looks around for his jeans. Of course; he stops to pinch Cas’s ass before going out the door.

 

That night, even though it’s a saturday, nobody’s really feeling like doing anything. Least of all Cas who’s been nursing a persistent headache all day. They end up at a diner, the two of them, Charlie and Jo squeezed in a booth.

“Hey, order another slice of pecan for me would ya?” Dean says as Jo’s getting up to get a refill on her coffee.

He takes out his wallet and hands her a ten.

She takes the money and saunters off to the counter.

“I have to tinkle.” Charlie announces, sliding out after her.

“Dude, tinkle? Really?” Dean says.

She sticks her tongue out.

Cas is leaning against Dean’s shoulder, still not back to a hundred percent. He probably needs another night’s sleep before he’ll be fully cured of his hangover. Dean wonders if he’s still thinking about the run in with Michael North. He probably is.

“Hey,” Dean says, nudging him gently.

Cas sits up straighter, taking his head off Dean’s shoulder. He raises his eyebrows in question.

“You know you’re perfect right?”

Paying Cas a compliment is a surefire way to make him blush. It wasn’t Dean’s goal when he did it, but he’s glad, cause it’s cute as hell. And he can’t help the wide grin that spreads across his face.

Cas flicks him on the arm.

“Ow!”

Cas just gives him a look that makes it clear he has no regrets.

“I tell you you’re perfect and you hit me?! Man that’s cold.”

“No, I hit you because you always smile like that when I blush, and it’s annoying.”

“Yeah well you’re adorable when you blush, smiling is a natural response.”

“Thank you.” Cas says, voice suddenly filled with emotion. “For what you said. And all the things you said last night.”

He leans in close, putting their faces only inches apart. “It’s what I’m here for baby. Well the other thing I’m here for, besides tapping that ass.”

Cas laughs softly, tears shining in his eyes. He winds his arms around Dean’s neck. He looks straight into Dean’s eyes, and there’s such a rawness there, so much vulnerability. Dean feels it like a shot through the heart. How another layer has been stripped away between them, how they’re even closer today than they were yesterday.

“What you waiting for baby? Put that mouth on me.”

An eye roll is the last thing he sees before feeling Cas’s soft lips against his.

He has to actually restrain himself from committing public indecency and pulling Cas into his lap and rutting up against him, because they’ve both been really busy this week, and haven’t really had an opportunity to get down. Thankfully, Cas saves him by pulling away first.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“Love you too.” Dean whispers, trying to banish his dirty thoughts and kill the rush of blood flowing to his groin.

There’s a pause before Cas gives him a knowing smile and says;

“You’re thinking something dirty aren’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Your face.”

Jo slides back into the booth then, with a fresh cup of coffee and Dean’s slice of pecan pie. Seconds after; Charlie comes back from the bathroom.

“Have a good tinkle?” Dean asks.

“The best.”

He feels Cas’s weight on his shoulder again, and leans down to press a kiss into his wild hair.

Perfect.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The triggers are descriptions of bullying, verbal and physical, some self hate, sort of gaslighting and victim blaming.  
> Thank you so much for reading, hope you liked it, leave me kudos if you feel like it, and tell me your thoughts in the comments. Also tell me if you spot any errors.  
> Someone brought something up in the comments of I want us to share a coffin, and it sort of bugged me so I wanted to make one thing VERY clear; this fic is in no way trying to justify or excuse Cas for what he does in There are no round fish. This idea was born before I started writing part 1, and wasn't originally intended for this universe. The reason I say this can be read as a standalone is because it might as well be. It is its own story. I don't believe that someone's shitty behavior can be excused just because they've had bad things happen to them.


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